


Tension

by Luka



Series: We're a Team [9]
Category: Rugby RPF, Rugby Union RPF
Genre: Coming Out, Established Relationship, Homophobia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-06-09 23:26:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19486171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luka/pseuds/Luka
Summary: Feelings are still running high in the England training camp.





	Tension

**Author's Note:**

> This is the latest instalment in my series that tries to explore what might happen if two international rugby stars came out. A reminder, too, that I've hijacked characters for my own nefarious ends - it's fiction! And here's a warning for much cussing ...

Dinner was loud and boisterous as people caught up with mates they hadn’t seen for a month or more and exchanged jokes and insults across the room. George, at a table with Ben, Jonny, Marcus, JJ and Anthony, kept his head down and concentrated on the meal. But every few minutes someone would come over to ask after Owen or to say what a fuckwit Ashton was – and to stare none too subtly at his engagement ring.

After the meal everyone adjourned to the bar where the noise level rose even further. George desperately wanted to go upstairs and to text Owen. Coley said quietly: “I know you want to slope off and I don’t blame you. But come to the bar and make sure people see you. You’re not the one in the wrong.”

George nodded - it made sense. So he sat back with a beer and was entertained by Jonny and Ant getting into a thoroughly bizarre discussion about aliens. He also chatted to Marcus, who reminded him that they’d first met when George did a coaching session at Brighton College. There was only six years between them in age, but George suddenly felt like he’d been playing rugby for 100 years.

All of a sudden he was aware that Jonny had gone quiet - a rare enough and generally worrying occurrence - and was looking thoughtfully at George who realised he'd been absent-mindedly touching and twisting the unfamiliar ring on his finger. 

Jonny then corralled George and a load of the married lads into standing around one of the bar’s small round tables with their hands flat and the rings on their left hands clearly displayed. He then stood on a chair to take a photo, and posted it to Instagram with the hashtag #loveislove. 

George stared at it for some minutes, his smaller hand obvious amidst some of the forwards’ meaty paws. Then he ‘hearted’ the photo, typing in a response that was simply a love heart and the rainbow flag. Within a couple of minutes, Owen had responded with the same emojis. George hesitated for about half a minute, and then told Jonny to tag him in on the photo.

***

George shifted position for about the 50th time. There was nothing wrong with the bed, he had enough pillows and the room was air-conditioned, but he couldn’t sleep. It was 2am and JJ had gone out like a light two hours earlier and was snuffling softly from the adjoining bed. George reached for his phone and checked it was on silent. He then tunnelled under the duvet and texted Owen.

_“U awake?”_

The reply was instant. _“Yep. U OK?”_

_“Yeah. Can’t sleep.”_

_“Nor me. Missing my human hot water bottle!”_

_"So I have my uses!"_

_"Hell, yes. Lots of uses :D"_

_"Get your mind out of the gutter!"_

_":D :D :D"_

_"One-track mind!"_

_"Yep. Any complaints?"_

_"None at all!"_

_"Saw photo. Jonny's idea?"_

_"Yep. Got him to tag me."_

_"Ask him to tag me."_

_"U sure?"_

_"Yep."_

***

Next morning George had finished breakfast by 7am and was out on the field with a bag of balls just before 8am to practice his kicking. He lost himself in the metronomic routine, banging over 19/20 kicks from the right touchline, and then 17 from the far left. Not bad, but still room for improvement. 

Once the main session started, it felt like everyone was looking to him to control things in Owen’s absence. And by the end he’d shouted himself almost hoarse. Just as he was thinking that time must nearly be up, a dead weight slammed into him after he'd flicked out a long pass to Elliot. George bounced off the considerable bulk of Courtney and hit the ground hard. He was back on his feet straight away, despite the fact his head was swimming and one side of him hurt like fuck. He eyeballed the fucker, and wasn’t convinced when Courtney muttered a vague apology. Jonny was straight in, though.

“You can cut that shit out! That fucking tackle was about half a fucking hour late!”

“Fuck off, weirdo!”

“You don’t fucking call me that, and you don’t fucking target George because he’s gay!”

“You in love with him as well?”

And then Jonny really lost it, seemingly unaware of the height and weight difference between them. In the end, it took the two front rows to separate them. Ben and Manu then grabbed hold of Jonny and pulled him well away. It was the first time most of those there had seen him seriously lose his temper.

“Come on, mate, calm down …” George put his hands on Jonny’s shoulders, wincing at the pain shooting down his right arm. 

"That was a fucking late tackle!"

"Yeah, I felt it," said George dryly. 

“He’s a nasty fucker!”

“It might not have been on purpose …” But George knew he didn’t sound entirely convincing.

“Yeah, and pigs might fucking fly! And I’m not having him talking crap about either of us …”

“Thanks for standing up for me, mate. But I don’t want you copping any shit from Eddie for getting into a fight …”

They looked around to where Eddie was talking to Courtney, who still had Coley, Ellis and Val, the new lad from Gloucester, standing menacingly in between him and Jonny.

Then Eddie came over to where George, Ben and Jonny were. “OK, George?”

“I’m fine.” In reality he felt shaky, but wasn’t telling anyone that.

“Good lad. He assures me it wasn’t on purpose …”

“Yeah.” George did his best to keep his voice expressionless, not looking round at Jonny, who’d snorted very loudly.

“I’ve suggested that he pays better attention to his tackling and that I wouldn’t like to think he was targeting a teammate. I’ve also said I don’t care for the way he referred to Jonny.”

George nodded. “I hope he’s going to apologise to Jonny.” 

“I’ve suggested very strongly that he does that. And Jonny, I appreciate you were upset, but fighting teammates isn’t a great thing to do.”

“I know. I’m sorry, Eddie, but I’m sick of people giving George shit.”

“You know that I won’t tolerate homophobia. Any issues, refer them to me. We’ll take some time out now, then reconvene for unit meetings.”

As Eddie walked away, Ben said: “Cut the posturing out, kiddo, and sit down before you fall down. He hit you like a fucking runaway train.”

“I’m fine …”

“Yeah, sure. You can be fine sitting down.”

In the end they sat on the grass, swigging from water bottles. JJ and Ant came over, and were soon followed by most of the backs. The conversation was muted, and George lay back and closed his eyes. He was used to being picked on as the smallest player on the field, but for the first time he wondered whether he’d spend the rest of his career targeted by every bigot and fuckwit in the game.

***

George found himself waylaid by one of the team doctors after the unit meeting, and submitted with a fairly bad grace to being poked and prodded around. The verdict was to expect heavy bruising down his back and right side. He could have hazarded an accurate guess at that without years of medical training …

He found a quiet corner in the foyer and hit the name at the top of his favourites list. Owen answered immediately.

"Hey!"

"Hey. You OK, our kid?"

"Yeah, fine. Bloody knackered though."

“And black and blue, from what I hear.”

“Who told you?”

“A list of informants as long as the M1. And they’d never seen Jonny go apeshit before.”

“Yeah, it was pretty spectacular.”

“Was the late tackle on purpose?”

“I dunno. He told Eddie it wasn't. To be honest, I was more fucked off with what he said to Jonny. Eddie says he’s told him to apologise, but I bet he fucking doesn’t.”

“It’s driving me up the fucking wall not being down there beside you.”

“I don’t need a protector!” flared George.

“Our kid, I know you don’t. The same can’t be said for Jonny!”

“I’m sorry … I didn’t mean to bite your head off. I want you here as well.”

“Soon … I’m bored out of my fucking skull, I’ve worked my arse off at the gym and done a load of promotional stuff, and there’s a limit to how much coffee I can drink with the lads!”

“You’re still OK for me to come over once we’re done here?”

“You bet! And that reminds me … Did you get the chance to check your email?”

“Shit, no, I forgot …”

“Have a look in a bit and let me know what you think. Give me a buzz before you go to bed.”

“OK.”

“Stay strong, our kid. Love ya.”

“I will. Love you.”

George dodged a load of the backs, led by Ant, who looked like they were about to take up residence in the coffee shop. Now would be a good time to check his email while JJ was otherwise engaged.

"Fordy …" Courtney’s towering figure loomed over him as George walked towards the lifts.

"Yeah?" He didn’t break stride.

“About earlier … It wasn’t on purpose.”

“Yeah, whatever. If it makes you feel like a real macho man to flatten me, then go right ahead. And I don’t give a flying fuck what you think about mine and Owen’s private life. But I do give a fuck when you call my best mate a weirdo.”

“Yeah, sorry …” Courtney looked away.

“Tell him that, not me.”

Courtney nodded. “Are you and Faz really gonna get hitched?”

“Yes. Did you think I’m wearing an engagement ring for a joke?”

“I dunno … Look, it’s none of my business.”

“It isn’t. So fucking back off.” George got in the lift and stared Courtney down till the doors closed and hid him from view.

Once upstairs, he powered up his iPad and connected it to the wifi. His emails took a while to download, as he hadn’t checked them for several days. He scanned down and opened the one from Owen with the subject line ‘wot do u think?’

Owen had forwarded an email from a BBC sports reporter who they both knew. She wanted to know if they’d both do a video diary from the World Cup, and also be interviewed over the Pride weekend. “I know you’ll have to get all this cleared, but I hope they’ll say yes, particularly to the Pride interview. It really matters that people see what you two have achieved.”

George stared out of the window. It seemed like tempting fate with World Cup selection, particularly given he fully expected Danny Cipriani to be included in the next training squad, but he knew what he wanted to do. He picked up his phone and dialled Owen. “Let’s do it,” he said.


End file.
